


The Absence of His Starlight

by cxrclet



Series: Thranduil/Reader Collection [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: -evil laugh-(?), F/M, thrandy doesn't die i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxrclet/pseuds/cxrclet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You make an attempt to convince Thranduil to support Thorin’s quest to reclaim his homeland, but the Elvenking misunderstands your intentions and accuse you of having feelings for the dwarven prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Absence of His Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader   
> Rating: T+   
> Chapters: Oneshot  
> Prompt: Request by Anonbaby  
> Summary: You make an attempt to convince Thranduil to support Thorin’s quest to reclaim his homeland, but the Elvenking misunderstands your intentions and accuse you of having feelings for the dwarven prince.   
> Words: 1286

You stood outside the throne room, deep in your thoughts, as you waited for the king to conclude his interrogation of the orc Legolas and Tauriel had captured whilst pursuing the company of dwarves.

You had some understanding of Thranduil’s dislike towards Thorin and his kin -- knowing the proud man that he was, you could only imagine the humiliation he felt when the king under the mountain mocked him infront of his people; leading him on to believe the white gems of pure starlight that he had been searching for would finally be in his possession, then only to snatch it away before his very eyes.

 

What you couldn’t understand, however, was his refusal to aid the dwarven prince in his quest to slay the dragon. Surely, you thought, your ill-tempered king doesn’t intend to hide within his halls, deep in the forest, while the rest of middle-earth burned around them.

Your chest rose and drop as you heaved out a deep sigh, shaking your head ever so slightly when your attempt to make sense of the enigmatic Elvenking proved to be futile. You pushed your thoughts aside just as rapid footfalls echoed in quick successions through the halls; your eyes meeting Thranduil’s as soon as you raised your head. While he didn’t look at all pleased, his expression softened a little at the sight of you.

“My king…” You addressed him formally out of habit, offering a small bow of your head as he approached you. “I trust the...inquisition went well?”

Thranduil linked his hands behind his back before he made his way to walk past you, the tilt of his head signaling for you to walk beside him - which you obliged without question, your own hands mirroring his. “Meleth nin…” Now that you were both away from prying eyes; evident affection laced his voice as he spoke to you, “I’m aware of your hatred for orcs. I doubt you would stomach its presence just to enquire of how the interrogation went. What is truly in your mind?”

He knew you too well indeed. You couldn’t decide whether to praise or curse him for it, and you didn’t have enough time to ponder over it either when his gaze egged you on. “I wanted to ask…” You started hesitantly, unsure whether you should bring it up to Thranduil of all people, “Why won’t you help Thorin in his quest to slay the dragon under the mountain.” You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking until the elvenking ahead of you turned to look at you.

It wasn’t the question that perturbed him but rather the familiarity of Thorin’s name in your lips; the lips which he had claimed so many times to count, the lips which he deemed should only be reserved to speak, moan, yearn his name, the lips which belonged to him. “I wasn’t aware you knew of Thorin Oakenshield.” There was a hint of sharpness in his voice; a warning if you will.

“I know Thorin.” You, unaware of his majesty seething annoyance, replied offhandedly. “Hot-headed as he is, Thorin is a good man. A good leader. I-If you aid him, it could mend the broken bridge between elves and dwarves--” A smile played on your lips at the countless possibilities of their alliance, but the only thing Thranduil saw was the gleam in your eyes as you spoke of...him. Of Thorin Oakenshield.

He took a step closer to you, a single step of his long legs closed a considerable distance which was previously in between, as an ominous feeling radiated from him. “Do not say his name in presence again.”

“But!” You insisted, untangling your hands and taking his arms as your brows furrowed pleadingly, “Thranduil--” You rarely spoke of his name outside your chambers, the only other time was when you wanted something or spoke of something serious, “Please...he is my friend.”

He shook away from your grasp, a feeling of guilt swelling in his chest at the look of rejection on your face - but he only had to remind himself of Thorin to regain his lost composure, “Everyone is replaceable. Mortals especially. You will find new friends.” He stated firmly, definitely...and indifferently.

There was silence.

Then you spoke with a heavy heart, “What of me then?”

“What of you?” It was Thranduil’s turn to look puzzled this time.

“...Am I...replaceable too?” Somehow you felt a weight in your eyes, making it a struggle to look at him straight in the eyes -- something you had always been able to do and he had loved you even more for it.

When another silence settled and still the king made no response to withdraw his hurtful words, you walked passed him with a poor attempt to hold your head up high.

“[Y/N]...” He turned around and called out your name to apologize...but you were gone.

\--------

An anxious Thranduil paced back and forth in the throne room with his thumbs wrestling against the other, mirroring the dilemma in his heart. He was currently waiting with boiling impatience for the small troop he sent to the forest in search for you, hoping you would be in tow, but a nagging voice in the back of his head rebuked him for not going himself.

After the unpleasant exchange earlier that day, Thranduil sought you out in hope to make amends -- when there was no progress in his search he turned to his servants for assistance when one of them informed him you had left wearing your cloak of the purest shade of ivory riding your white mare in a rush.

Then it dawned on him.

“She’s going to run.”

Without hesitation he sent a selected group of skilled warriors, including his own son, to bring you back. Five hours later, presently, and naught.

“Your majesty!!” A female servant, whom he vaguely recognized served you, made a beeline for him with a look of dread. “I-It’s Lady [Y/N]! S-She’s severely injured! The healers fear she might not--” The silvan elf needn’t say more as the blonde haired royalty rushed past her.

\--------

Chaos soon spread within the infirmary as every healer in Mirkwood scurried around, “Do not pull it out!” One shouted over the uproar when a servant actioned to extract the blade in your chest, “The wound is too large, she will bleed more and faster without it!”

Thranduil entered the room, his presence acknowledge by the occupied healers with a small bow of their heads before resuming to their respective task, and immediately made his way to your side. “[Y/N]!” His hand reached out to hold yours, but soon decided against it in fear of causing you more pain. Instead he settled with resting them by your side. “Meleth nin…”

“Thranduil…” You whispered with a breathy sigh, beads of sweat gathering between your furrowed brows as you forced your heavy-lidded eyes open to see your beloved.

He offered you a bittersweet smile, shaking his head at you as his own brows furrowed as well, “Why…” He lightly brush his forefinger down the bridge of your nose, “Why...do you always defy me?” He questioned with a broken voice, his heart in the process of breaking for he knew as well as everyone in that room of the inevitable.

Your white cloak had been tainted by crimson, your once bright smile fading into a weakened curve of your lips, and your eyes which normally twinkled like starlights gems quivered with little life left in them.

Death was claiming you.

You, whom he claimed his. But perhaps you never truly belonged to him…

“...Because I know you will love me anyway…”

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for the bad ending:L My greatest weakness, aside from the obvious:L, is writing endings. I hope you enjoyed it anyway...? Message me on Tumblr if you have a request. 
> 
> Tumblr: Thrandybaby


End file.
